


Maestitia

by Nareliel



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: F/M, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 03:59:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20632730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nareliel/pseuds/Nareliel
Summary: It should not be this difficult.  Today should be just as any other.  But it is not.  This is the day she lost Kanaan.Ronon helps Teyla deal with the loss of her partner.





	Maestitia

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after season 5 when Atlantis has returned to the Pegasus Galaxy. I always liked Teyla and Ronon, but I would not call this particular piece shippy. It could be viewed as strictly friendship or possibly friendship starting to lead to something more. I have read and re-read this many times, but I apologize if I've missed any typos.

_It should not be this difficult,_ Teyla thinks as she dodges the bantos rod aimed at her shoulder. She quickly turns and steps out of Ronon's reach. Today should be just as any other. But it is not. This is the day she lost Kanaan. It has been a full year since his death. The father of her child is gone, and there are days she does not know how to cope with his loss. Teyla has lived all her life in a galaxy plagued by the Wraith. She is very accustomed to death. As the leader of her people, she is also accustomed to bearing her grief alone. Yet, somehow, this time it is different. 

Perhaps it is because she is surrounded by the people of Earth whose ways are not her own. They have all been kind and considerate, offering condolences and asking if she needs anything. However, all she really wants is to be left alone. Though, that is not entirely true. Teyla does not really want solitude so much as someone who can simply be still and just sit with her in silence. Given his naturally stoic bearing, it comes as little surprise that Ronon has been the best at fulfilling this need. Several times he has joined her in meditation. The Satedan still does not meditate, but he is willing to simply sit with her in silence while she seeks balance. At least, he has gotten to the point where he no longer falls asleep.

Usually, when the sadness hits her, Teyla can meditate to calm herself. Today, however, meditation has failed her. And so, she seeks comfort in sparring. She parries Ronon’s bantos rod with her own and banishes the memory of Kanaan’s smile. It’s not that she wants to forget Kanaan, but she cannot handle thinking of him today. Unfortunately, her mind seems determined to ignore her heart. Thoughts of Kanaan keep manifesting when she least expects them. She swings her bantos stick at Ronon’s thigh. The Satedan barely dodges her blow, and Teyla hears Kanaan’s soft laughter as she is flooded with a memory of knocking him off his feet when her father was teaching them to use the fighting rods. She and Ronon circle each other and she is back on New Athos, dancing with Kanaan around the firepit in celebration of the harvest. Ronon feints to the left before swiping at her from the right, the edge of his bantos rod catching the material of her skirt, and Teyla remembers her last morning with Kanaan, how he grabbed her gown’s hem and pulled her back onto their bed to steal more kisses before the day began.

Suddenly, it is all too much. Teyla feels the rage swell in her chest before she lets out a battle cry and lunges at the Satedan. No longer is she sparring but lashing out at the memories that threaten to overwhelm her. Ronon does a decent job of holding his own against her onslaught, but when he realizes she’s driven by her anger, he quickly disarms her, casting both sets of bantos rods over against the wall and out of reach. Unfazed, Teyla attacks with her fists, and Ronon takes it, deflecting the blows that would do serious damage, but letting her strike at his arms and torso as the fire surges through her.

And then, as quickly as it came, her wrath dissipates. Teyla feels as though she is crumbling in on herself. She never hits the ground, however, because Ronon is there. He catches her, pulling her in against his chest as she is engulfed by sadness. Teyla doesn’t have the strength to fight any longer as tears well in her eyes and spill over, streaming down her face in gushing rivulets. Without a word, the Satedan pulls her closer, his strong arms tightening about her as the grief rages, wracking her body with sobs that are muffled by his shirt. Teyla curls her fingers, fisting her hands into the cloth as though it were a lifeline keeping her from drowning in her sorrow. Ronon doesn't say a word. He simply holds her, one hand positioned at the small of her back while the other hand gently moves up and down her spine. The last time she was held like this, she had been at the Athosian settlement where she’d had to relay the news of Doctor Beckett’s death. Later, in his tent, away from prying eyes, Kanaan had comforted her as she mourned the friend who had saved her life, only to lose his a few hours later.

The memory brings a fresh wave of tears, and Teyla loses herself in the storm of emotion. Time ceases to have meaning, and she is only aware of the burning in her chest as she pours out her grief into the Satedan’s strong frame. At some point, he lowers them down onto the floor; for, as the tempest wanes, Teyla finds that Ronon is sitting in a position similar to the one she takes for meditation, and she is positioned in his lap with her legs hung over his right thigh. His shirt is thoroughly soaked as is the skin underneath, she is sure, but Ronon makes no move to release her. If anything, his arms are wrapped even tighter about her, keeping her from pulling away as a twinge of self-consciousness starts to take root. 

Without a word, he pulls her closer, letting her know that this is okay. He does not think any less of her for the torrent of emotion he has just witnessed. Ronon is not letting go, and a part of Teyla is thankful for his stubbornness. Somehow, with touch his only form of communication, the Satedan manages to convey that he is willing to lend her his strength. Teyla is surprised by how much she needs this silent moment...to just be held without explaining her feelings. Ronon is suddenly an oasis in the center of her desert, offering her respite from the harsh winds of grief raging against her soul, and she allows herself to simply rest in his embrace. As light filters through the ombre shaded windows, painting them in soft orange and yellow hues, Teyla realizes that this is the first time she has felt safe since Kanaan’s loss. Eventually, she will have to return to her duties as a mother, a leader, and a warrior; however, for now, she is content to stay nestled in the Satedan’s arms. He offers her refuge from her burdens but, more importantly, Ronan shelters Teyla from the sadness. Silence blankets them as peace settles over them, the Athosian leader taking solace in her Satedan sentinel's embrace.

**Author's Note:**

> According to Daniel Jackson, Latin likely originated from the language of the Ancients. And, so, I gave this story a Latin title. Maestitia is Latin for "the sadness".


End file.
